“Knock again,” said Pacheco.
Quentin did so, adorning his blows with a noisy tattoo.
“Coming! Coming!” came a voice from within.
They saw a beam of light in the door jamb; then the wicket opened and a man appeared with a lantern in his hand.
“It’s I, Tío Frasquito,” said Pacheco. “I have some friends with me.”
“Good evening, Señor José and company,” said the man.
“Is the ground impossible?” inquired the Countess from the inside of the carriage.
“Yes, it’s very muddy,” replied Quentin.
“How can I get out in these white slippers? I’m done for.”
“Would you like me to carry you in my arms?” said Quentin.